Unfamiliar Surroundings
by Allied Hero
Summary: When tunnel 3 collapses with Carter inside it, the other heroes fear the worst. Meanwhile, Carter's nightmare is only just getting started.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:**__ Yes, I actually dared to attempt another Mary Sue! Or...can I really call it that? Maybe a Sue Mary? Regardless, it's quite different to my other attempt and I guess I'm hoping this'll make up for it. As always, constructive criticism and feedback is greatly appreciated. Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

Newkirk paced around the barracks, arms folded. He occasionally glanced over at the tunnel entrance, and after seeing no movement from the bunk bed each time, resumed his pacing again. Carter had been down in the tunnels for almost two hours attempting to make some explosives for their latest assignment and Newkirk was worried about his mate.

"Gee Newkirk, why don't you sit down? You've been at it for more than an hour," Kinch said surprised, glancing up from the deck of cards he was holding. "Carter will be fine. Besides, we haven't heard any explosions yet. For once he may have actually gotten his formulas right!"

Newkirk stopped pacing and looked towards Kinch who had begun another game of solitaire on the common room table. It was only then that he realised that his pacing had grabbed the attention of many of the other prisoners in Barracks Two. "Sorry Kinch, I just can't help it. Don't you remember what happened the last time Carter tried to make his own explosives? He almost blew himself up and would've taken the camp with him if the Colonel hadn't have stopped him. What if he caves another tunnel in? He'll be trapped down there!" (1)

"Pierre, if Colonel Hogan did not think André could do the job, he wouldn't have asked him," LeBeau added. "Besides, he's been down there for a while and we haven't heard anything. He's probably finishing up now and will be back up here in no time."

"Can't I just go down and check on him? C'mon, it'll only take me a minute and then I'll stop worrying," Newkirk pleaded. It was obvious his friends' attempts to calm him were not working.

"Non, le Colonel already gave the order, no one is to disturb him. _That _might set of an explosion." It was then that Hogan strolled out of his office with an empty mug in his hand. He walked up to the stove and poured himself another cup of coffee. "What's going on? I heard my name."

"Newkirk's been pacing around like there's no tomorrow. He's still worried about Carter," Kinch replied. "We keep trying to talk some sense into him but he won't listen."

"Newkirk, I already said Carter will be fine," Hogan told the Corporal. Newkirk was about to plead his case again, when an almighty explosion threw them all across the room. He rubbed the side of his head and looked towards the tunnel entrance as he regained his senses, only to enter into a state of panic at the sight of dirt filling the barracks.

"CARTER!" He exclaimed, jumping up and running towards the tunnel entrance. The others weren't far behind. Kinch opened the tunnel entrance expecting Carter to come crawling out dazed, but fine. However, when a few minutes passed by with no sign of the Technical Sergeant, the heroes entered into a state of panic. Hogan quickly took command. "Alright everybody down in the tunnel right now, Carter's trapped down there!" They didn't need to be told twice. All 14 men from Barracks Two scrambled to form a line from the tunnels back into the barracks, and piles of dirt were being passed up within minutes.

* * *

The last thing Carter remembered before he'd been knocked out was a bright flash of light. He didn't know how long he'd been unconscious for and was trying to work out what had happened. As he came to, he slowly sat up, leaning on one hand as he rubbed the back of his head with the other. _Dammit, I must've caused an explosion. Am I dead? _He thought. He pinched himself on the arm, only to let out a tiny yelp. _Nope, not yet Andrew._

The moon lit up the night sky, the puddles that surrounded him reflecting its light. The concrete he'd landed on was damp. _Wait, there's no concrete in the tunnels. _He instantly regained his senses and took in his surroundings. Street lights shone down on the road about 54 yards away to his left. A car passed by, sending the remnants of a puddle flying onto the adjacent footpath. To his right, a couple of cars were stationary in various spots. A large, red luminescent sign reading 'Coles' was fixed to a building that loomed over him. The interior was lit up, showing the faces of last minute shoppers for the night.

Carter was astonished at the amount of lights in use. _Are these people crazy, don't they know there's a war on? _It was then that he realised that this place was...peaceful. There was no air raid siren going off, no buildings in ruins, no bombs exploding or guns rattling. It was strange - the war had been going on for so long that he had sadly forgotten what it was like to live in peacetime. _These people are lucky; they mustn't be affected by the war._ He got up, brushed himself off, and readjusted his cap. He began walking towards one of the cars out of curiosity, peering in through the front window to see if something inside would help him figure out where he was. Squinting, he could just make out the words on the front cover of a book sitting on the passenger seat: 'NEW EDITION: Melways Melbourne, Australia'

His mind went into a state of panic, realising he was very much away from Stalag 13. _Australia?__The camp. My friends. Roll call.__There's no way, th-this has to be some sort of crazy dream, a mistake! It can't be...Australia? Maybe I shoulda listened more closely when the guys from barracks 12 were telling their stories from back home. Except this is their home...I think. _

Murmuring could be heard to his right, and he glanced towards the door of the 'Coles' building. A man had just walked out, dressed in a suit and tie that had been unfastened. One hand was up to his ear as he struggled to carry the various bags with him in the other hand.

"...and I told _you _Laura that I can't have the reports done until Monday! It's just not possible!" He yelled. Carter looked around to see who the man was yelling at, only to realise there was no one else around besides the man and himself. Perplexed, he leaned against the car trying to think of a logical explanation for his current circumstances, when an alarm suddenly pierced through the parking lot. The man's head shot up, finally noticing Carter standing next to his car. "Hey you, what are you doing? I'm calling the police!"

_Uh oh. Run Andrew._

Carter almost tripped over himself as he turned around and made a dash for the footpath ahead. He didn't know where he was running. He was cold, scared, tired and alone, and all he wanted was to be back in familiar surroundings - even if those surroundings did include Klink, guards and the cooler. The sound of the alarm eventually got softer and disappeared altogether, allowing him to stop and catch his breath. There were fewer streetlights where he'd stopped and he couldn't see any cars around now; well, none that were moving. Realising that he was in a suburban street, he looked for a place to hide. _C'mon Andrew, you should be an expert at this by now. Just find some brush where you can hide 'till morning and then you can figure out how to get out of here_.

Carter walked along the street, scouting out the best hiding place possible. _Too open, no fence, no brush, no coverage of any sort...don't these people know the meaning of the word 'privacy'? _He was about to give up when he noticed a house at the very end of the street. Well, he assumed it was a house behind the tall fence and trees that obscured it. Figuring it was the best place available, Carter climbed the wooden slats and landed with a thud on the other side. Recovering his balance, he saw a light illuminating from the front window. Creeping towards the side of the house, he made sure to dodge any twigs and fallen branches that would give his position away.

Walking up to the side gate, he eased it open, flinching as it creaked. When he didn't hear anyone coming to investigate the noise, he opened the gate completely and slid into the darkness of the backyard. He quickly dodged out of sight as a light turned on, almost giving away the fact that he was trespassing. He waited a few minutes, and after no one came to investigate, he slowly began to move along the walls as he'd done so many times before at Stalag 13 trying to avoid searchlights.

As it turns out, the extra light had helped. Carter could now see what looked like a small wooden cubbyhouse at the back of the garden. _Hey, this is just like the one I used to have when I was a kid! Except...it was up in a tree. But that doesn't really matter because-Andrew, shut up. You talk too much. _Carter reminisced about the amount of times Colonel Hogan had told him those exact words and chuckled to himself. It was true, he did talk too much at times. _I promise you boy - I mean sir - that I'll get back to camp somehow. I don't know how, but I will._

He proceeded to make his way over to the cubbyhouse and opened the door, only to be startled by the figure of a young girl hunched over a book, torch in hand.

"Mum I already told you, I'm not gonna have dinner until I get this history assignment done," She said, without looking up. Carter just knelt there, frozen. He didn't know what to say. When she got no response, the girl glanced up from her book and was shocked to see the figure of a man in a bomber jacket and cap. She was about to scream, when she thought she recognised the man. _No, it can't be. _She thought. _He's dead. _"W-Who are you?" She stammered.

"Um, Sergeant Andrew Carter...Ma'am,"

* * *

_Well there it is. Hopefully I've been able to keep the heroes in character. I apologise about the amount of times the word 'he' was used in reference to Carter - it's kinda hard to write it any other way when the story is only focused on one character for so long. Anyway, as always, feedback is appreciated!_

(1) From the episode 'German Bridge is Falling Down'.


	2. Chapter 2

"No, that's impossible," she whispered hoarsely, trying to figure out if it was all just some big practical joke. "You-You're not even real."

This statement almost caused Carter to fall back in surprise. "Hey, I sure am real!" He yelled, defensively. "I just went for my annual physical last week and they told me everything was fine!" The girl stared at him, mouth open, not sure how to respond. It couldn't be, it just wasn't possible - the man was fiction, a figure of someone's imagination. Larry Hovis had been dead ten years. _I've cooped myself up in here too long and I'm seeing mirages now. _She thought. _Yeah, that must be it. _

All of a sudden, the sound of a sliding door could be heard. Carter quickly ducked behind the side of the cubby house out of line of sight, just in time to see the head of a woman pop out from behind the door frame. "Peter who were you talking to? I heard voices," the woman asked, sternly.

"No one, maybe you just heard a possum or something?" the girl suggested. Carter's eyes widened as it appeared the woman wasn't going to accept this for an answer. However, her face softened and she smiled at the girl. "Alright, but come inside soon, it's getting late."

"Alright mum."

As soon as the glass door slid shut, Carter came around to the front of the cubby house again. "Your name's Peter? Say, that's swell," He continued casually, his current predicament temporarily forgotten. "One of my friends back where I come from is a Peter too. Only he's a guy."

Peter stared at the man in disbelief, weighing up her options. For all she knew this was some creep who was impersonating a character from her favourite show who had somehow tracked her down and was about to kill her. _Why on earth am I not calling the police?_ She asked herself in bewilderment. _For Pete's sake this guy is trespassing!_

She knew the reason why she hadn't called the police however, and it was because there was the other possibility, that this really was Carter. She'd read the many stories on the fan fiction site she followed about Hogan's Heroes fans travelling back in time. But that's all it was - fiction. Time travelling watches, holes sucking an unsuspecting character into Stalag 13, lightning strikes, the works. If it was a Mary Sue, she'd read it. But time travel wasn't possible, and yet here was a guy who would've existed more than 70 years before her quite literally at her doorstep.

"Look ma'am, I know this seems hard to believe but I'm a prisoner from a POW camp in Germany. I don't know how I got here but I need to get back there real quick otherwise the Germans will notice I'm missing," Carter said, the fear returning to his eyes. "I know you may not know what I'm talking about when I say that but you're the first person I've run into here who hasn't threatened me or anything and I need your help."

Peter looked down at the page opened in her lap; she knew exactly what he was talking about. After all, she'd been studying the subject for 4 years. Carter couldn't see the cover of the book, but little did he know it was about the very war he thought he was still fighting. She straightened herself up and decided to go with her gut feeling. "Alright," she began warily. "Just one question. What year do you think this is?"

"1944," Carter replied matter-of-factly. "June to be exact."

"Are you sure? You didn't notice _anything _different on your way here?" Peter asked, bewildered at the fact that the Sergeant hadn't noticed a thing. Then again, if this was in fact Carter she was dealing with, that wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

"Well, now that you mention it, the cars I saw earlier were very different to anything I've ever seen before. But I just figured it was because it's a different country, ya know?"

Peter realised that the Sergeant was very much out of sync with his current situation. "Alright, get in here before my mum comes back out and sees you. Oh, and by the way, you've got a lot of explaining to do. So maybe you should start with how on earth you got here in the first place."

* * *

The men of Barracks Two dug furiously throughout the rest of the day and all through the night, taking turns digging in shifts, watching the door and only stopping for roll call. Schultz hadn't been happy when he realised there was a man missing, but after reassurance from Hogan that Carter would be back soon, he reported all present in the hope that Hogan had been telling the truth. Despite the men's best efforts, they had only managed to dig out 50 feet of the tunnel, and still had a long way to go until they reached Carter.

"Colonel it's no use, he's been stuck under there for hours now," Kinch said exasperatedly, stopping his digging momentarily to catch his breath.

"We've gotta try, Kinch. We can't just leave him under there. And besides...this is all my fault, I should never have asked him to make those explosives in the first place," Hogan replied solemnly, looking over at Newkirk who was still digging furiously. _There are times when your men know better, Rob. _Hogan thought to himself. _Maybe you should start listening to them more often. _

"Mon Colonel, you don't think André is...?" LeBeau didn't want to finish the question.

Hogan knew exactly what he meant. "No LeBeau. If anything, he's probably trapped in an alcove somewhere. But there's no food or water down in this section of the tunnel which is why we've gotta reach him fast. C'mon, let's keep digging. The men from Barracks 5 will be down here in an hour to take over so we can get some rest. It's been a long night."

"Colonel, what about all those bags of dirt upstairs?" Kinch asked. "Your office is almost up to the brim with them. If any of the krauts happen to walk in there they'll know we're digging tunnels."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of that in the morning," Hogan replied tiredly. Kinch always had to point out the detail in everything. "It won't take much to convince 'ol blood-and-guts to let us beautify the camp or something like that. The sort of thing that looks good in Berlin, could end up with a promotion, you know the drill. We'll take the dirt out and dump it next to the Rec Hall. One bag per man."

The men nodded in recognition and continued, praying Carter would be alright.

* * *

"So what you're telling me is that in the 15 minutes you've been here, you've already managed to set off what I think is a car alarm, get yourself into trouble with the police and technically trespass on private property?" Peter asked, astonished.

"Well, now that you put it that way..." Carter replied sheepishly, realising just how much trouble he'd gotten into in such little time. "Say, watchya reading there?"

Peter forced herself not to roll her eyes at the sudden change of subject. "Oh, this..." She trailed off, and internally debated how much she'd tell the Sergeant. Telling him too much could change history, even if he was technically a fictional character. "What year did you say it was again?"

"I already told you, 1944!...ma'am," He replied, slightly frustrated. "What does that have to do with anything?"

_Oh, just everything. _Peter thought sarcastically. _Hmm...June 1944. I guess it's safe to assume D-Day has already happened. _"Well, what would you say if I told you that you're actually about 70 years into the future? Specifically the year 2013."

Carter's eyes widened but quickly returned back to normal. "Oh, well how 'bout that. I'm thousands of miles away from home and you're sitting here trying to mess with me!"

Peter inwardly sighed. She knew this wasn't going to be easy. "Alright look, I shouldn't be showing you this but I will anyway," She closed the book in her lap and lifted it up for Carter to see the cover which read 'World War II: From Blitzkrieg to Hiroshima' (1). He stared at the large book blankly, taking in the picture of Winston Churchill on the front. There had been a large shortage of paper throughout the course of the war, and a book that large would've been almost impossible to get. Was there really a chance that she was telling the truth?

"I know about Blitzkrieg, but what happens in Hiroshima?" He asked, curiously.

"I can't tell you that," Peter replied. "The less you know about the future, the better. It may otherwise change history." Carter still didn't look quite convinced though, and Peter could tell.

"Those cars you saw earlier were different because to you, they haven't been invented yet, and they won't be for another good 50 years after the war. The oldest you may have seen would've been from the 90's," she continued, his expression changing from doubt to interest. "I shouldn't be telling you this, but after World War II, there's another war called the Cold War. You'll find out what I mean eventually. But anyway, a lot of our current technology came from that war which was developed even further, and now we have things like this."

She pulled out a small rectangular device from her pocket, and held it out to him. "What's this supposed to be?" He asked, intrigued.

"It's called a mobile phone," she replied, amused with his reaction. "It's basically a landline phone like the ones back in your time, only you can carry them around with you anywhere." Carter turned the device over multiple times, mesmerised by the fact that such an invention was possible. "Here," she said, taking the device off him and pressing a button on the side which he hadn't noticed. "You slide the screen across like this and then you can access anything. When mobiles were first invented they were huge, almost like walkie-talkies, and they had a limited range. That was in the early 50's. Then they gradually got smaller, lighter, and the service range got larger until you could make international calls with them. Then about four years ago, the first mobile phone with a touch screen was invented, which is what this is. There's a lot more to it than that, but it's a _really _long story so I think I'll stop there. Here, try for yourself."

Carter reached over and tried doing as she said, only to sigh in frustration. "It won't work!" He huffed, continuing to tap the screen to no avail.

"Try taking your gloves off, that might help," she chuckled. "The screen only responds to contact with skin." Carter seemed to hesitate for a moment, but took the gloves off anyway. "I guess it's okay with you, but boy, if the guys back at camp found out I was married, they sure would be sore about it!"

_He's __**married**__? _Peter asked herself in shock, trying not to let it show on the outside. _Larry Hovis was married. Carter was not. _"How come?" She asked casually, taking a quick glance at the ring on his finger.

"Well all the other guys have girlfriends back home but none of them are married. They're always talking about girls when we're not busy...doing other things," he said, a hint of hesitation in his voice. "Anyway, I'm the youngest outta the group and I sorta just try and stay out of the girl talk, make it sound like I'm naive, ya know? But the guys started asking why I never talked about girls as much as they did so I made up this story about a girl called Mary Jane who I was dating back home. And then when they got too nosy, I sent a Dear John letter to myself so I wouldn't have to keep lying like that. Made a huge deal over it and it worked out pretty nicely. But if they ever found out the truth, boy, they'd sure be real mad." (2)

Peter began to get the idea that Carter was a lot smarter than he let on to most people. _I will never look at that episode the same way again. _She chuckled to herself. "I'd better get going inside, otherwise my mum will come out here and see you," she began. "Stay in here and don't come out for any reason whatsoever. Don't worry about my parents walking in on you, no one comes in here but me. Oh, and I'll bring you some food in the morning and a change of clothes from my dad's wardrobe so you at least look like you belong here," She pulled on a jacket and slowly backed out the door of the cubby house. "After I get back home from school tomorrow we can start working out how to get you back home. See you in the morning."

Carter watched as she shut the door behind her and he slumped into a corner of the small hut, exhausted. Even if he was in unfamiliar surroundings, he was thankful he at least had some shelter for the night and someone who could help him. It was then that he noticed she'd left both her book and torch behind. _No Andrew, you heard what she said. You're not allowed to know about the future. _He thought, scolding himself. Yet, the word 'Hiroshima' stood out, begging him to open the pages and see what was inside. _Well...I suppose one quick look won't hurt. Besides, how would I change history anyway? I'll be stuck in a POW camp._

He grabbed the book and torch, placed it in his lap and turned on the dim light. Opening the index page, he scrolled down to the 'H' section until he found what he was looking for. Within a few moments, a page titled 'Hiroshima and Nagasaki' was displayed and Carter began reading. _On the 6th of August 1945, a plane known as the Enola Gay took off for the city of Hiroshima, carrying the first atomic bomb to be used in war time dubbed as the 'Little Boy'. _Carter's eyes widened.

_We did it. We actually managed to create the atomic bomb. _He thought, astonished. Unbeknownst to him as he continued reading however, a young girl was peering out her bedroom window, cringing at the sight of a very faint light coming from her cubby house.

_Ah, crud. _She thought. _I left my stuff in there._

* * *

_**A/N:**__ I'm perfectly aware that a teenage girl letting a man who may-or-may-not be a character from her favourite TV show into a small hut at night is incredibly odd and probably borderline creepy. However, for the purposes of this story, let's just pretend that pedophiles do not exist and leave it at that, shall we? Haha. I'm always trying to improve my writing so as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!_

(1) 'World War II: The definitive visual guide' is an actual book published by Dorling Kindersley Ltd. It's an extremely informative book and has great visuals too. I highly recommend it for research purposes and just general knowledge too.

(2) From the episode 'Request permission to escape'.


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N: _**_A big t__hank you to dust on the wind for helping me out with technical aspects of this chapter, and in my other recent one-shot too. Much appreciated._

* * *

Colonel Hogan was used to functioning on limited amounts of sleep.

Running a secret Travellers Aid Society and sabotage unit was hard work, often resulting in many sleepless nights. However, this particular morning he found it especially hard to pull himself out of bed as Schultz barged into the barracks signalling time for roll call. As it turns out, his men felt the same way too. Rolling over and letting out a slight whimper, LeBeau forced himself off his bunk and shuffled over to the coffee pot, eyes still partially closed.

"Boy, I'm beat," Kinch said, to no one in particular. "How many hours of sleep did we even get last night?"

"I dunno, probably under two hours," Newkirk replied groggily, for the first time since the tunnel collapse. The response resulted in LeBeau and Kinch giving each other a look of recognition, eager to see their friend talking again. Newkirk caught their glance and sighed. "I'm sorry mates. Just been a bit wound up, is all. It's just not the same without Carter."

"It's okay mon ami, we're all worried about André. He'll be alright, we just have to stay positive," LeBeau replied, bringing over a cup of coffee to the Englishman. "I know we're all tired but we'll start digging again after roll call." As the other men began discussing how long Carter would be able to hold out, Schultz once again burst through the door.

"Everybody out for rrrroll call!" He bellowed, receiving a series of complaints in return from the men as they filed outside. "What's the matter with you boys? You all look ter-ri-ble."

"Thanks Schultzie, you ain't exactly lookin' like Rita Hayworth yourself!" Newkirk quipped, sending the rest of the POW's into fits of laughter.

"Jolly jokers..." He mumbled. It was then that Schultz noticed Carter hadn't filed out to formation for a second time. He panicked, making his way over to Hogan. "Colonel Hogan, Carter is still missing. You told me he would be back, he is not back, and if Kommandant Klink finds out, _I _won't be coming back!"

"Relax Schultz, I gave you my word as an officer and a gentleman that he would be back...any day now," Hogan replied nonchalantly, stifling a yawn. Schultz' eyes grew as large as saucers at this revelation, causing him to mumble an 'I know nothing!'. Klink hurriedly walked towards Schultz who was standing at attention in front of the men. "Herr Kommandant...all present and accounted for." He shot a look at Hogan who gave him a cheesy grin in return.

"Very good Schultz, disssssmissed!"

Hogan was grateful Klink didn't feel like giving them one of his 'riveting' speeches that morning. As the rest of the men filed into the barracks, Hogan picked up his pace to catch up with Klink as he headed into his office. "Hey Kommandant, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yes, yes, what is it Hogan I'm very busy, can't you see? Papers from Berlin, no one has any idea!"

"Yeah, I suppose 'inspecting' those magazines we were meant to receive in our last Red Cross packages is a pretty gruelling task," Hogan replied casually, inwardly elated at his ability to mess with Klink's mind so early in the morning.

"Hrmph! Insolence!" Klink yelled, slamming a hand onto the desk.

"Incidentally sir, that's exactly what I came in here to talk to you about," Hogan continued. "I heard the Red Cross inspector was due here in a few weeks and I thought it would be nice if some of the men did some decorating. Ya know, beautify the ol' dungeon. We could do some work around the Rec Hall, make it look good for the Brass. Who knows, might even earn you a promotion!"

The mention of an opportunity for promotion caught Klink's attention, and he seriously considered Hogan's proposal. _Well they would be working in broad daylight so any attempts at tunnel digging would be illogical. _He mused. "Very well Hogan, I'll provide you with the necessary tools and your men will start work at once. Disssssmissed!" Hogan returned a sloppy salute and headed back to the barracks with a smile plastered on his face.

_Even on two hour's sleep I've still got it._

* * *

The moment she heard both parents leave the house, Peter sprang out of bed, dressed, and dumped the cup of lemon tea her mum had given her down the sink. "Blechk," she said to herself. "Nothing worse than that awful drink." She headed out to her hut. Opening the door, she found Carter sound asleep. She tried shaking his shoulder, to no avail.

"...Hrmph...gimme five more minutes.." He muttered. _Fine, you leave me no choice. _She thought.

Banging the side of the door with her hand, Peter tried imitating one of Schultz' signature lines. "Everybody out for r-rr-roll call!" She yelled, awkwardly attempting to roll her r's. Carter snapped awake.

"Oh c'mon Schultz, I told you not to-!" He realised where he was and sat upright. "Oh, it's you," Carter said, noticing Peter in the doorway. "Funny, I could've sworn you sounded just like my barracks guard back at camp...nevermind. Didn't you say you had school today?"

"I do," she replied, a smug grin appearing on her face. "But unfortunately I came down with a case of the Heemilack fever this morning and, well, just wasn't well enough to go." She couldn't tell if a slight look of recognition appeared on the man's face. Whatever it was, it was gone as soon as it had appeared. (1)

"Say, nice work!" He said, impressed. "So that means we've got the whole day to figure out how the heck I can get out of here?"

"Uh huh," Peter replied. She thought over everything he'd told her the night before. "You said you were making some explosives to blow up a bridge back in Germany. What were you making them with?"

"Well we didn't have any of the real stuff left in stock so I had to use bleach and ammonia. Boy, that stuff is really unstable. A little bit of contact between those two babies and boompowsquoosh-"

"Carter!" she chuckled, cutting him off. "Alright, my guess is that if you came in with a bang, you're gonna go out with one too. We've got bleach, and ammonia is probably in one of the cleaning products inside. Since my parents are out, you can come in and take a look for yourself. I'll get you something to eat and some new clothes, too. What I still don't get is why you ended up here of all places."

"Beats me," he replied, as they headed inside the house. "Must've been something in the chemicals I was using. If I want to get back, suppose I reverse the order I mixed them in?"

"We could try," Peter mused. "Wait a minute, hold it, I almost got too carried away here. We've got one serious problem. Using bombs of any kind, especially home made ones is a serious crime which is generally linked with terrorism. It's not the sort of terrorism you're thinking of, by the way - another long story you'll eventually find out about." She added, seeing the confused look on his face.

Carter sat down at a wooden dining table adjacent to the kitchen, as Peter began making some cheese on toast under a portable grill. "So you're telling me you guys don't use _any _explosives at all around here?"

"No, why would we? This is peacetime, incase you've forgotten."

"Absolutely _nothing_?" He pressed. "No smoke bombs, dynamite, short fuses, delayed reaction timers, firecrackers-"

"Carter, that's it!" Peter exclaimed excitedly, cutting him off for the second time that morning. She ran down a hallway leaving Carter sitting there, dumbfounded.

_Was it something I said?_

A minute later, Peter came back around the corner holding a crumpled piece of paper in her hand. Setting it down on the table, she attempted to flatten it out and show Carter the contents. "They were handing these out at school the other day," she said, as he read the notice. "There's a large park oval next to my school, and the annual firecracker festival is gonna be held there tomorrow night. I threw this out cos I didn't think it was important, but this could very well be your ticket back to camp, and the only chance we'll get to be around some form of explosives."

"But firecrackers won't cause an explosion large enough to get me anywhere," Carter reasoned.

"Firecrackers alone might not, but a box full of them mixed with some of the cleaning products I've got just might. An explosion big enough to get you home, but small enough to look like an unfortunate accident. You willing to try?" (2)

"Sure," Carter replied eagerly, happy that returning home was sounding more and more possible by the minute. "But what about you? After the explosion, the cops are sure to come looking for the culprit."

Peter shrugged her shoulders, clearly not looking concerned about the repercussions. "There'll be hundreds of people all over the place setting off their own firecrackers so we'll blend right in. As long as you keep a reasonable distance between other people, they won't get caught up in the explosion. The cops will be looking for witnesses to give them some statements, and if we play our cards right and make it look like an accident, then everyone there will be telling them that's exactly what happened. Enough statements like that and they won't even bother looking for a culprit. Sure, they'll investigate, but the last person they'd suspect of having anything to do a deliberate explosion is a teenage girl - especially when I was supposedly sick in bed with the Heemilack fever!"

While Peter was busy laughing at her own joke, Carter was busy watching the strange appliance on the kitchen bench behind her starting to go up in smoke. "Uhh, ma'am...your machine thingy over there is on fire."

Peter whipped around the exact moment the smoke detector went off. She quickly filled a bowl with water, dousing the flames. Staring down at the melted plastic, she carefully removed the charred remains of bread and put them on a plate. "I'm such a great cook, even the fire alarm cheers me on...breakfast?"

"Uhh...maybe I'll pass," Carter muttered, staring down at what was left of the cheese on toast. _Boy, when I get back to camp I'm never gonna complain about LeBeau's cooking again!_

* * *

"Carter! Can you hear us, buddy?" Kinch shouted for the umpteenth time through the wall of dirt. "Carter!"

"It's no use Kinch, he's obviously not close enough," Newkirk sighed. "Bloody hell, I feel like a bleedin' gopher right now. How long have we been diggin' so far today?"

"About 3 hours, I'd say," LeBeau mumbled. It was clear the excessive labour combined with little sleep was taking its toll on the small Frenchman. "How do you think he's holding out? I wouldn't be surprised if he's passed out from claustrophobia. Or the lack of air."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he's trying to _dig_ his way out of there right now. I'm telling you mates, the first thing I'm gonna do when we find him is give him a right old hug. Then I'm gonna punch him in the ruddy mouth!" Newkirk's comment resulted in the laughs of several of the men around him, who were all well aware of the complicated friendship between the British Corporal and American Sergeant.

Meanwhile, on ground level, Hogan was directing the operation to remove the bags of dirt that had been piling up in his office. The men from Barracks 3 had begun digging around the side of the Rec Hall, while the men from barracks 7 carried the dirt from Hogan's office under their overcoats and disposed of it in the trenches that had been formed. It wasn't long before Schultz noticed the odd behaviour.

"Colonel Hogan, what are you doing?" He asked, suspiciously. "I think there's some monkey business going on!"

"Oh come now Schultz, we aren't up to anything. Just trying to make the place look nice for the Red Cross inspector in a few weeks, that's all."

"I don't believe you! Every time you do something that looks good for us, it means it is actually bad for us." Schultz was now glaring at Hogan, who continued walking to pull the guard's attention away from Barracks 2.

"Schultz, I give you my word as an officer and a gentleman that we're not doing anything funny. Just trying to help out for once."

"_Ja_...we'll see about that," The look on Schultz' face turned from one of sarcasm to fear. "Is Carter back yet?"

"No, not yet. But we're expecting."

"Colonel Hogan, _please_, it would be worth my life if I did not report this!"

"Fine, have it your way Schultz," Hogan began, casually. "But when Klink find out he's been gone two roll calls which _you _didn't report truthfully for-"

Before he could finish, Schultz was already throwing a mini temper tantrum and stormed off, struggling to work out how the American Colonel constantly got the best of him. Once Schultz was a good distance away, Hogan tipped his crusher cap in the direction of the Rec Hall, signalling the all clear for the men to continue clearing the dirt.

* * *

Now dressed in the clothes Peter had permanently borrowed from her father's wardrobe, Carter hunched over the dining table studying the map she had printed of the park the firecracker festival would be held in. She had long since given up trying to explain all the technology that was new to him him, and he had given up trying to comprehend it all.

"Alright, let's review the plan," she said. "I'll tell my parents I'm going to bed early because of my fever and I'll cover some pillows with a blanket incase they come in to check up on me. I'll slip out the back window and meet you out on the street where we'll walk up to the park which is only five minutes away. When we get there, we'll have to buy tickets to get into the main area first. Don't worry, I'll take care of that. There will be a series of tents encircling the park oval, each one with different types of firecrackers in them. Only one firecracker is allowed per person at once, and people take it over to this point here where professionals will help in firing them off. However, there's going to be a truck right here..." She pointed to an area on the map. "...which will have crates full of the different firecrackers, and it just so happens that it'll be parked out of the way of everything else. All we need to do is to get our hands on one, find an empty area of the park and off you go back to your universe."

"It's really gonna be that simple? Just _take_ a crate of firecrackers out of a truck and blow it up?" Carter asked, mentally questioning the girl's plan.

"Not quite," she replied, knowing the predicament was going to be brought up. "There'll probably be four or five cops patrolling the park as security, and no doubt one of them will be watching over the truck. A simple diversion aught to do the trick, just enough time for you to grab a crate and get outta there. I'll have to leave it up to you at that stage and head back home before the fireworks. The first thing my parents are gonna do when they hear that explosion is checkup on me to make sure I'm alright."

_Gee, this is almost like what we get up to back at camp! _Carter thought, happily.

A knock on the front door startled the two, sending Peter into a wave of panic.

"My mum's home," she whispered hoarsely. "Quick, get back into the hut!" The knocking persisted, this time more frantic. "Nevermind, there's no time - hide in there! Hopefully she's just forgotten something for work." She pointed to a small room at the back of the house, which Carter quickly ran towards, closing the door behind him. The knocking sounded for a third time, which had Peter now running towards the front door. "Coming!"

Opening the door, she started racking her brain for an excuse for the delay. "Sorry mum, I just-oh, hi officer," she said, internally shaking. _Why on earth is a cop here? We haven't even blown anything up yet! _"How can I help you?"

The police officer tipped his hat at Peter, then preceded to organise the papers in his hand. Finally, he spoke up. "Last night there was an attempted car jacking at the Coles down the road, just a few minutes from here. The offender was seen headed this way, but hasn't been found which has us coming to the conclusion that he may very well be hiding out in the backyard of a house around here, unknowingly of course. It's happened many times before," he held up one of the papers he'd been carrying so Peter could see the contents. "Have you seen this man around at all?"

Peter did everything she could avoid audibly gasping. The picture, taken from a CCTV camera clearly showed Carter running away from the scene of the 'crime'. _Oh, brother. Carter's done a lot of stupid things in his time but this has got to take the cake. _"Uh, no officer, I haven't. Sorry about that, I've been sick in bed with a fever for the last day."

"Uh huh," he muttered, once again organising his papers. "Well regardless, I've got orders to search every house within a two kilometre radius of the crime scene just to be sure." This time he held up a search warrant.

_Oh no, Carter's in the study._

"Um, sure, this way please." She replied hesitantly, opening the door wider to give the officer access. As she followed him into her parents' bedroom, she could hear him muttering something about how chiefs have nothing better to do than have houses inspected.

As they slowly made their way through each room in the house, Peter could only pray for a miracle.

* * *

_**A/N: **__Oh dear, what a sticky wicket! I wonder whether that officer will manage to find Carter or not...as always, I appreciate your feedback. Thanks for reading!_

(1) From the episode 'The Scientist'. Hogan told Klink that LeBeau was a chemist back in France before the war who had invented 'Heemilack'. I didn't get a chance to watch the DVD episode with subtitles so I have no idea how that's meant to be spelled. But I think you get the idea anyway.

(2) Just so you know, I don't know the first thing about explosives since I don't plan on blowing anything up anytime soon. But I guess you get the idea. Bleach and ammonia were the two things Carter was using in the episode 'German bridge is falling down' where he _nearly _blew himself up.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: **__Sorry about the delay, it's been a busy few weeks! Hopefully I can update the next chapter by the end of this weekend - only a few more to go now._

* * *

Peter held her breath as she opened the door to the study, and tried not to let her shock show when she realised the room was empty. _There's no place to hide in here and the window can't be closed from the outside...maybe he slipped into a different room? _She thought. The police officer roamed around the room, checking behind bookshelves, between filing cabinets and under a desk. He then proceeded to check the backyard, and was gone almost as soon as he came. The moment he left, she ran back to the study.

"Carter, you in here?" She was startled by a muffled voice in response. She failed to deduce its location and continued. "...It's safe now, the police officer is gone."

With that statement, the lid to a small chest in the corner of the room opened. Carter crawled out stiff, but fine. "Boy, that was close. I thought for sure he was gonna find me in there!" he exclaimed. Peter wasn't listening, though. She was too busy staring down at the opened chest, trying to figure out how on earth the Sergeant had managed to fit in there. He let out a slight chuckle.

"We had an escape artist from England come through camp once. He locked me in a chest in my commanding officer's room, but before he escaped, he taught me how to do that myself. I guess it was his way of apologising for the trouble."

_Sergeant Flood! _Peter thought, amazed. She had always wondered what had happened to that guy after he'd gotten away from the Gestapo. (1)

"Well it's a good thing he did, but we've got trouble," Peter replied. She was rapidly trying to think of a way to deal with their current predicament. "By now the police have got your picture all over town, and they'll have me on file as having been checked over. If we go to that festival tomorrow night as we are, they'll have that explosion pinned on me in an instant...if we're not arrested beforehand, that is."

"Well how about we go in disguise?" Carter suggested. "I dress up all the time back at camp for plays my friends and I put on for the other prisoners."

_Not to mention for your various roles as crazy, yet hilarious Germans! _Peter inwardly retorted. It was clear by now that Carter didn't want to mention the operation at Stalag 13, regardless of the fact that he was both miles and years away from 'home'.

"Well sure," she replied. "But I don't really know anything about disguises."

Carter failed to suppress a smug grin, as he reminisced over the various German roles he'd played over the years. "Well," he began. "I might just know a thing or thing or two myself."

* * *

Hogan watched as a few of his men brought more bags of dirt into his office, adding to the pile that was growing once again. It was now 10PM, and the other men were working under candle light. With a cup of coffee in hand, he thought over everything that had happened over the previous few days. Despite what he'd told the rest of his men, he was worried sick about Carter. It had been almost two days of constant digging, yet he was nowhere to be found. Not only that, but at the rate they were going, they were due to connect back up with tunnel four and the emergency tunnel within the hour. If Carter wasn't found, well, he didn't even want to think about it.

He was about to get up and begin helping his men again, when Newkirk shuffled into his office, eyes down. One glance at the Corporal's expression and Hogan knew what the news was. His eyes widened in shock.

Abruptly pushing past Newkirk, he ran towards the tunnel entrance. Newkirk slumped down against the wall of the office, as Hogan slid down the ladder. He sprinted through the main tunnel, making his way through tunnels one, two and three. Coming to a stop at the end of tunnel three, the rest of the men from barracks two waited. Solemn looks covered their faces, as a couple of them stared through the gap they'd created that led back into tunnel four. Everyone was silent, waiting for Hogan to speak. The Colonel just stood there, staring at the gap in the dirt as if he were in a trance.

To their surprise, Hogan didn't say a word at all. Well, at least not to them. He stepped past the few men who were standing in front of the small gap. Sliding through, Hogan wondered through the remaining tunnel, panic growing inside of him with each step he took. "Carter!" he called out. When there was no response, he persisted. "Carter, it's not funny! Come out right now and that's an order!"

Still no response.

"No," he whispered hoarsely. "I-I didn't mean...I didn't mean to, I...I'm so sorry Carter."

He slowly started backing out of the tunnel, before doing a double take and dashing towards tunnel three. By this point, a few of the men had widened the gap in the dirt. Hogan easily slipped through this time, and walked straight past his men who were now all resting against the walls of the tunnel. A few of them tried to get up to comfort the Colonel, but were promptly stopped by Kinch.

"Leave him alone for now, he needs time to let the news sink in first," he said sternly. Staring at the opposite wall of dirt, he himself let out a sigh, trying to comprehend the fact that Carter was gone.

Hogan entered his office and slammed the door behind him. Feelings of hurt and rage were growing inside him simultaneously, which only made him more upset and confused.

"Dammit Rob, look what you've gone and fricking done!" he yelled at himself. "You killed Carter! It's your job to look after the men under your command, and you just sent the kid off to blow himself up!"

Hogan took a deep breath and walked over to his window. Opening the wooden doors, he stared up into the night sky. "Carter if you can hear me, I'm so sorry," he said, quietly. He slumped against the window sill, fighting back the lump in his throat that was beginning to form.

"You know G'vnor, I find that telling someone else how you feel makes everything a lot better, even if you don't feel like talking."

Hogan spun around, surprised to see Newkirk leaning against the wall at the other end of the room, arms around his legs. "When did you get in here?" He asked, shocked.

"I never left sir," the Corporal responded. "I'll leave if you want."

If there was one guy in camp Hogan could open up to, it was Newkirk. The Englishman had been the first to befriend Hogan despite his initial distain for officers (well, right after he gave his watch back), and he'd been a part of the operation at Stalag 13 since the very beginning. They'd formed a special bond over that period of time.

"No, it's okay, I suppose you heard everything anyway." Hogan replied, bluntly.

Newkirk responded with a nod, and stared up at the ceiling. "He volunteered to do the job, and you know that. It's not your fault."

Hogan wondered over to his bed, and slumped down on the bottom bunk. He stared at the floor, trying to think of a way to express the hurt he was feeling. "Newkirk, I always thought that if one of us ever got killed, that it would've been because we got caught on a mission, or if the Germans ever found the tunnels. It's my job to protect you guys as much as possible, but I got careless, too confident with what we were doing. I asked Carter to do something I knew was dangerous. That's why it's all my fault."

The lump returned to Hogan's throat, and he once again fought to hold it back. Newkirk got up and made his way over to the bottom bunk, sitting down next to the Colonel. "Sir, you know just as well as I do that Andrew would've volunteered regardless of whether you'd asked him to or not. He's just that kinda guy, likes to help everyone, you know?"

Hogan sighed, leaning on his knees and staring down at the ground. He knew Carter had volunteered. What upset him was the fact that he hadn't stopped him. Maybe it was the slight sense of maturity Carter had formed over the years that had made him think he could do the job right this time around. Regardless of the reason, that didn't change the situation.

"How am I gonna tell London?" he asked, his voice slightly shaky. "They'd have to notify his family. They'll never forgive me for it."

Newkirk wasn't sure how to deal with the situation at hand. Not only had he just lost one of his best mates, but he had never seen the Colonel in such a fragile state. Hogan was always the brave one who dared to accomplish the most dangerous of missions and looked out for his men, not the other way around.

"Sir, what if this is all just a misunderstanding?" Newkirk mused, as the thought suddenly occurred to him. This caught Hogan's attention, and he prompted the Corporal to continue. "I mean, what if Carter never did get caved in? He may have managed to dig his way into tunnel four and escaped through the emergency exit. Maybe a kraut spotted him. What if he's being held in a Gestapo jail right now?"

Newkirk watched as the look on Hogan's face turned from sadness, to hope, then to despair in a matter of seconds. "I'll have Kinch check with our local contacts and see what we can find out," Hogan replied, getting up from the bunk bed and heading towards the door. He stopped in the doorway and flashed a hint of a smile. "Thanks Newkirk, I hope you're right."

Newkirk watched as the door to the office closed. "For all our sakes G'vnor, I hope I am too."

* * *

As night time fell, both Carter and Peter found themselves back inside the hut in her backyard. Her parents had since returned home, so they were trying to keep their voices down. During the day, Carter had given Peter a list of things she needed to buy from the local store for their disguises.

"Say, this is great!" Carter exclaimed, looking at the fake moustache she'd bought. He applied it lightly, then brushed his fringe down the way he did when he imitated Nazis. "How do I look?"

"Good enough to shoot," Peter replied, laughing at the expression on his face. "C'mon, put that thing away, otherwise it won't stick tomorrow night." Carter obliged, and watched as she pulled out two pairs of glasses and a wig from a separate bag. She handed a pair to him, and put the wig on her head. Adding the glasses and a hat, she grinned at the Sergeant who was trying desperately not to burst out laughing.

"You look ridiculous!" he exclaimed through broken laughter.

"Aww shucks, thanks mate," Peter replied sarcastically. She pulled off the disguise and stashed both bags in the corner of the hut under a blanket. "Alright, looks like almost everything is in place. There's just one problem left to solve, and that's how to get the police off your back. They'll keep looking for you even after you're gone, and I don't plan on having my house searched again."

They both sat there for a minute, trying to come up with an idea that wasn't illegal. They were already going to be breaking the law, and they didn't need to make it worse than it was already going to be. Suddenly, Peter piped up. "I've got it! Gimme your bomber jacket."

"What's my jacket got to do with anything?" Carter asked, handing it over. Peter inspected the jacket, looking for the name tag and any other symbols on it.

"Tomorrow, we'll burn this," she said. "Make sure your name and any tags relating to the U.S. military are burned off too. The last thing we need is the cops thinking the U.S. have a secret military base near here or something. Before you set off the explosion, dump this on the ground so they can find it. They'll think you've been killed in the explosion and that's it, problem solved." (2)

Carter stared at the girl, bewildered at how similar her ideas were to Colonel Hogan's. He snapped back to reality within a few moments. "Oh right, no sweat...piece of pie."

"Don't you mean 'piece of cake', Carter?" Peter asked, stifling a giggle.

"No ma'am, I've always found pie digests a lot easier."

_Oh brother. _Peter thought. _Tomorrow is going to be a long day._

* * *

(1) From the episode "The most escape-proof camp I've ever escaped from".

(2) Ever wondered why Carter's bomber jacket was replaced with a new one in Season 6?


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: **__Thank you to all readers and/or reviewers so far. Carter's crazy adventure is almost over! I apologise for not getting back to those people who've reviewed the last few chapters. Next week is the last week of term for me, so the teachers have really been throwing the books at us. I just wanted to say that I really appreciate your support. Oh, and thank you to Hogan'sHeroesFan for pointing out that typo in my last chapter, I've fixed it up. Well, enough babbling from me. On with the story!_

* * *

The next evening, Peter waited for around half an hour after she'd told her parents she was going to sleep. When she was sure they thought she was snoozing away, she silently slipped out her window which led directly into the backyard. Opening the door to her hut, she smiled when she saw Carter's dark figure in the corner.

"You ready?" she whispered.

"Yeah, just waiting for you." Carter whispered back.

"Alright, sneak out the front and I'll meet you there in a few minutes. Oh by the way, go around that way," she said, pointing to a path around the edge of the backyard. "Otherwise the light will turn on and my parents will know someone's out here."

Carter did as he was told, and after he successfully made it through the gate, Peter headed into the hut to change. Putting on the wig, glasses and hat, she wrapped herself in a thick coat and hid the cleaning products in large pockets beneath it. Once outside the front of her house, Carter slipped out from behind a neighbouring bush.

"C'mon," she whispered, signalling which way to walk. Carter was in an especially happy mood that evening despite the risks involved in their plan. Not only would he be back at camp within the hour if everything worked out, but it was also the first time he'd been out in the open in almost three days.

"I'm glad to finally be outta the house," Carter whispered, as they walked along the footpath. "Not that I don't appreciate your help or anything ma'am. It's just that...I just um, well, I was beginning to feel like I was locked up or something. It's kinda funny how I'm still hiding from people even though there's no war here."

Peter let out a soft chuckle at the Sergeant's remark, due to both his habit of stuttering at times and the irony of what he'd said. "Keeps me off the streets!" she replied, cheerily.

_There it is __again__, _Carter thought, frustrated. _Colonel Hogan always says that!_

"Say, I've been meaning to ask," he began. "The other night when I first got here, what did you mean when you said I wasn't real?"

Peter hoped the dark had concealed her reaction. The question had caught her off-guard, and she didn't know how to break the news to the kid that he was just a product of someone's imagination. Eventually, she decided to go with the truth. Well, almost the truth.

"Well I guess I'll have to tell you," she said. "I already knew who you were when you showed up at my house the other night. You come from a POW camp in Germany called Stalag 13 where you run an underground operation there, assisting downed fliers and sabotaging the enemy where possible."

Carter stopped dead in his tracks and she continued. "And you're able to pull all this off because your commanding officer, Colonel Hogan, is a really smart guy and you've got a great team. Not to mention that your camp Kommandant Klink is an idiot and your barracks guard Schultz sees, hears, and knows no-thing!"

Carter grinned at that last part, but his face quickly resumed a look of uneasiness. "So you're telling me that we become a part of history too? Do we all survive the war?"

"Yep, your whole operation becomes a part of history," Peter replied. "And you know I can't tell you that, changes history, remember?"

She let out a slight chuckle, but her mind was occupied with other thoughts. _Television__ history, that is. And I can't tell you because I don't know either. As far as I'm aware, you guys will be stuck there forever since the show never had an official ending._

"Oh sure, I understand." he replied, sounding slightly defeated.

"Actually, there's something I've been wanting to ask _you_," Peter said. "How come you got demoted to Sergeant?"

A sheepish look appeared on Carter's face. "Well...I almost blew up my commanding officer this one time and-."

"_Colonel Hogan_ demoted you?" she cut in. "But he seemed like such an understanding guy!"

"No, not _him_!" Carter replied, defensively. He saw the look of surprise on her face and he softened his tone. "I actually escaped back to England from Stalag 13 once, around the start of 1942. Anyway, I got reassigned to a new squadron. One night it was a little quiet around the airbase so I started playing with my old chemistry set in my room to pass the time. But then my commanding officer walked in unexpectedly and I poured too much of this chemical in a test tube and then, well, I think you can figure out what happened after that."

Peter did everything she could to stop herself from bursting out laughing at his revelation. Carter had an annoyed look on his face but continued anyway.

"As it turns out, he was coming in to tell me I was being transferred back to Stalag 13 at the request of Colonel Hogan. After I'd made my escape, the Colonel realised that he could use my knowledge of explosives for sabotage jobs around the area. So one demotion and a plane ride later and I was back in the middle of Germany."

Peter was about to ask him what happened to Vladimir Minsk when she realised just how long they'd been standing there. "Uh Carter, I think we better going."

"Oh, right. Lead the way!" A smile appeared on his face again and they resumed their walking. As Peter had indicated, the park was close to her house, and they arrived within a few minutes.

As they waited in line for tickets, both partners in crime took the time to observe the area. As Peter had mentioned the day before, an arch of colourful tents encircled the park in the shape of a semi circle. Through a gap in the middle of those tents, they could see a glimpse of people in another line at the other end of the oval waiting to have their firecrackers launched. An array of colourful patterns lined the sky every few moments. Peter glanced over at the tents to her right, and saw the top of a truck.

_Perfect,_ she thought. _It's a good distance away from all of this. Now, if I only I can see how many cops are patrolling it..._

Her thoughts were interrupted however, when Carter nudged her in the shoulder. Looking up, she realised it was their turn to buy tickets. As she strolled up to the booth, she couldn't help but notice the ticket master giving her an odd look.

_Well why not? _she thought. _This disguise looks borderline ridiculous anyway! _

A couple of minutes and a few odd glances later, and they both successfully made it into the buzzing crowd of festival goers. "Say, this is pretty neat!" Carter exclaimed, mesmerised by the colourful patterns lighting up the night sky. "Can't we just stick around for a little bit?"

Peter forced herself not to roll her eyes as she pulled at Carter's arm. "C'mon, we haven't got time for that," she huffed. "We've got work to do. We can't walk near the truck just yet because they'd kick us out of that area and we wouldn't be able to get near it again after that. But we need to see how many cops are patrolling it. There's a small gap in between those two tents over there," she pointed to the tents to their right. "So you distract the guys selling the firecrackers while I take a quick look."

Carter raised his eyebrows, amused at the girl who was already beginning to march her way over to the stands. _Golly, _he thought. _When I get back to camp the guys are never gonna believe any of this! Speaking of camp, I wonder what happened to the tunnel after I left. Do the other guys even know I've been gone the last 3 days?_

Carter snapped out of his thoughts and hurriedly walked over to the tents, trying to catch up with Peter who had already struck up a conversation with two of the sellers.

"...and here he is now," she said, glancing up at him. "Uncle, I was just telling them about how you work at that firecracker company over in America. Maybe you could tell these guys a bit about what you do?"

Her eyes flickered over to the gap between the tents, and before they could protest, Carter had already begun a less than riveting speech about the different types of firecrackers invented in the 1940's. When Peter was sure they were occupied, she slipped in between the two tents and took a good look at the truck.

_Good, the back of it is already open meaning easy access. Only one cop patrolling it, easy to distract. Wait a minute..._

She squinted at the officer who was walking in circles around the truck, trying to get a better look at him. When she realised who it was, she let out a slightly audible gasp. _That's the guy who searched my house yesterday! Oh boy, these disguises better hold out or I'm earning me a one way trip to prison._

She quickly scanned the area surrounding the truck, noticing a large wad of bushes around 100 metres north west of her position. _If I can just get close enough to the aiming mechanism on that launcher, we're gonna cause one hell of an 'accident'..._

A rustling sound in the tent beside Peter startled her, and she quickly slipped back out into the open before anyone noticed she was missing. She was just in time to hear Carter getting into the details of what makes a good explosion in a firecracker. Upon seeing the looks on the men's faces, she decided they'd suffered enough for one night and she quickly dragged Carter away.

"You get a good look?"

Peter nodded.

"...and?" Carter asked, expectantly.

"It's crazy, but it just might work."

* * *

"Finally got through to the Hammelburg Underground Colonel," Kinch whispered, walking into his office. "Message from them." He handed over the clipboard to Hogan who was groggily waking up from his short sleep.

_Will see who is being held in Hammelburg Gestapo headquarters and get back to you. One hour._

"Fine," Hogan mumbled, handing the message back to his second in command. He sat up, swung his legs over the bunk and sighed. "I can't believe I'm saying this Kinch, but I really hope Carter's there. At least he'll be alive that way, but not for long if we don't get to him soon."

Kinch could both see and sense how much stress the Colonel had been under since the whole mess had started. "Don't worry sir, everything's gonna turn out okay, you'll see," he said. "You should probably get some more sack time, morning roll call is in an hour. I'll need a few minutes in the tunnel to receive the message from the underground though, so the rest of you guys will have to distract Schultz."

"Yeah, we can handle it," Hogan replied, stifling a yawn. Kinch chuckled and decided to let his commanding officer get back to sleep. He headed for the door, when Hogan spoke up again.

"Kinch?"

"Yes sir?"

"Thanks," he said, slightly smiling. "You guys have all worked really hard these last couple of days and I owe you all big time."

"We aim to please Colonel," Kinch replied. He closed the door behind him, leaving Hogan to mull over his own thoughts.

* * *

"You got your bomber jacket and prisoner clothes?" Peter asked. The two cohorts were hiding behind the public toilet block, which was situated on a small mound a fair distance east of the truck. Despite the festivities, the block appeared to be empty.

"Yeah, right here under these clothes. Can't I take off the jacket?" he whined. "The burnt parts are making me itchy!"

"Stiff up, soldier," she joked. She pulled the bottles of bleach and cleaning liquid out from underneath her own coat. "Here, hide these under your clothes. See that big group of bushes all the way over there?"

She pointed to the bushes she'd spotted earlier, which were concealed in the darkness due to the fact that they were out of the oval's lighting range. When Carter nodded, she continued. "Once you get the crate, hide in there. But first, we need to get it out of that truck. Stay here and wait a minute while I go down there and distract the cop. When you see me adjust my hat, come around from behind then make your way over to the bushes once you've got the goods."

"Got it," he replied. "Do I wait for you to get out of here first?"

"Yes and no," she said, mentally trying to figure out if she could make it home in one minute if she ran. "After you're hiding, I'll go and get a firecracker and line up to have it launched. From your position, you'll be able to see me easily. Wait until _after _mine has been fired off, because the next person in line is going to get a bit of a shock when they realise what direction theirs is flying in!"

Carter frowned at the girl who was now laughing to herself. "You know boy, I mean ma'am, that's not a very nice thing to do. I mean golly, if I was that person then I sure wouldn't appreciate it!"

"Yeah, and blowing up mail guys when they drive across bridges isn't a very nice thing to do either," she retorted. A look of defeat appeared on his face and she continued once again. "Anyway, I'm gonna adjust the dial on the machine after my fire cracker has been launched. As soon as you see the next one being fired in your general direction, blow those explosives to the moon. Or the camp, which ever one you prefer." (1)

"But what about you, don't you have to make it home?" he asked, a look of concern on his face.

"If I run, hopefully I'll almost be back in time for the explosion. Anyway, I guess this is the last time we'll talk, so good luck Carter," she said shaking his hand. "Oh, and by the way - be a pal and don't go blabbing about the atomic bomb to your mates, alright?"

He shot her a sheepish grin, realising he'd been caught red handed. Satisfied, she began making her way down to the truck. She stuck to the front side, and just as she'd hoped, the officer stopped her.

"Excuse me ma'am, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave this area, regulations," he said.

Once he stopped, Peter adjusted her hat. "Oh, sorry officer. I was just looking for my Uncle, that's all. I lost him about ten minutes ago and I can't seem to find him anywhere. Have you seen him?"

The officer sighed at the interruption. "What does he look like? If you describe him, I'll see if I can help."

Peter took a quick glance behind the officer and saw Carter sneaking towards the back of the truck in the darkness. She tried to stall for time. "Well he's my mum's brother, my dad's brother in law and he's married to my aunt. Oh, and he's also a man."

The look on the officer's face was absolutely priceless. "Yes, but what does he _look_ like?" he demanded, the frustration now clearly evident in his voice.

"Well gee, no need to yell," she replied defensively. "Uh, he's wearing a red and black striped jacket and lime green pants. He's a little on the eccentric side, I know." _There's no way anyone around here is going to be wearing __that__!_

"Well unfortunately I haven't seen anyone wearing what you've described, but if I see him, I'll let you know."

Carter was just starting to lift the crate out of the truck when the officer turned around. He quickly ducked inside the shipping container before Peter dramatically fell to the ground.

"Ow, I think I sprained my ankle!" she cried. This once again caught the attention of the officer, who bent down to help her. Carter didn't waste any time sneaking back out of the truck, crate in hand. Once he was a safe distance away, she began to get up again. "It's okay, I think I just rolled it or something."

After she was sure Carter was safely in his hiding spot, she exchanged formalities with the officer and proceeded to make her way back into the crowd of festival goers. She wasted no time in getting her hands on a firecracker and lined up, mulling over the rest of the plan to pass the time. As she neared the launching pad, she strained her eyes trying to see the details on the directional dial.

_True bearings? _she thought. _Oh great, didn't I fail a test on that a few months ago? Well, it looks like I'll just have to wing this thing._

She didn't have much time to figure out her position though, as she was called up a few minutes later. _Well, here goes nothing. _

Meanwhile, Carter was hunching over in the bushes, watching the events unfold. He had already discarded his bomber jacket nearby, and watched as Peter ever so slightly bumped the dial with her knee on the way out. He pulled out the cleaning products he'd been given and waited while the firecracker was being set up.

While this was happening, no one noticed a teenage girl quietly exit the park. The moment Peter reached the footpath obscured by a neighbouring fence, she broke out into a sprint, running as fast as her legs could possibly carry her. She arrived back at her house within a few minutes, and quickly made her way through the side gate, dodging the sensor light as she went. She dumped her coat and the disguise back under the blanket in her hut. As she was climbing back through her bedroom window, she realised she hadn't heard the explosion yet. _Oh __please__ tell me Carter didn't foul this up!_

That exact moment, a muffled **boom **rang through the neighbourhood.

Collapsing into her bed exhausted, she looked up at the night sky. "Mission accomplished," she whispered to herself, saluting.

* * *

"Everybody out for rrrroll call!" Schultz bellowed. As usual, he received a series of moans and groans from the men of barracks two in response.

"Oh knock it off Schultzie, I told you not to bang the side of me bunk like that!" Newkirk complained.

Schultz wasn't in the mood for any of their complaining that morning, however. He could see that Carter was still missing, and he was beginning to be driven stir crazy from trying to keep the secret from Klink. "C'mon, raus, raus, raus! Everrrybody outside!"

He waited until Colonel Hogan came out of his office, then waddled towards him. "Colonel Hogan, now there are _two _men missing. Where is Sergeant Kinchloe? I'm warning you! It would be worth my life if-"

"Schultz, Kinch will be up here in a few minutes," Hogan replied, tiredly. "And depending and the news he gets, then I'll finally be able to tell you whether Carter's coming back or not."

"What do you mean by '_up_ here'? Shh, never mind. I know nothing!" he yelled. Hogan followed the Sergeant of the Guard out the door, hoping Klink would be late that morning. He could tell Schultz was just about ready to crack.

Meanwhile, down at the radio communications centre, Kinch was waiting for the incoming message from the Hammelburg underground. At exactly 6AM, the radio came to life. Kinch listened intently as the morse code filled his headset, and he frowned as the message appeared on paper.

"Roger, Papa Bear signing off," he said, sighing.

_No sign of cub in jail, hasn't been moved._

He was just about to head up top to break the bad news to Colonel Hogan, when he thought he heard a noise coming from further down the tunnel. _There shouldn't be anyone down here, roll call started two minutes ago._

He grabbed his pistol from beside the radio set and cautiously made his way through the tunnel system. The noise got louder as he proceeded through tunnels number one and two. As he entered tunnel three, he could tell the source of the noise was coming from just around the corner. He braced himself, then broke out from his cover, pointing the pistol straight at the culprit. His face registered a look of utter shock upon seeing the cause of the noise.

_"Carter?!"_

* * *

(1) I don't even know if such a machine exists. "_Firecracker launch pads, brought to you by the guys at Allied Hero's active imagination!"_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: **__Despite what I said at the start of the last chapter, the story won't end here. I've decided to include a small epilogue in a separate chapter due to what I've written in this one. Also, there will be a lot of dialogue in this chapter, so I apologise in advance to those of you who don't like that particular style of writing._

* * *

"_Kinch?_ Boy am I glad to see you!" Carter cried, in a tone just as surprised as the older Sergeant's had been. As he brushed the dirt off his shirt, his facial expression turned from shock to complete happiness. "You wouldn't believe what's happened to me over the last few days. I was so worried I was never gonna see you guys again and-"

Kinch cut him off. "Slow down buddy, where the heck have you been? Are you okay? We all thought you'd been killed in the cave in!"

"Cave in where?" Carter asked. He looked around at the off branches of the tunnel surrounding him, but couldn't see what Kinch was referring to. "And I haven't even been here, I mean, I was here but I wasn't, I mean, the future, the girl, the festival, the explosion..." he trailed off as he caught Kinch's look of utter confusion.

"Uh, Carter, maybe it'd be best if you explain yourself to all of us after roll call," the Staff Sergeant replied, still in shock over Carter's sudden reappearance. Realising how much time he'd wasted, he cursed under his breath. "Oh geez, I almost forgot - roll call is right _now. _C'mon, we better get up there. The other guys are stalling, but I don't know how much longer they can hold out."

Carter, still slightly dazed, followed Kinch towards the ladder as quickly as he could.

Meanwhile, above ground, Hogan's men were doing their best to confuse Schultz each time he attempted to count the prisoners.

"Beautiful night, innit Schultz?" Newkirk asked, casting a mischievous grin. "Why, I can see the barbed wire shining across the other side of camp from 'ere!"

Schultz muttered in frustration as he began to recount the prisoners for the fourth time. This time however, Klink had come out of his office to observe the count, which prevented the men from any further means of distraction. Hogan stood in formation deep in thought, mulling over all the things that could've possibly happened to Carter over at Gestapo Headquarters in Hammelburg. That's _if _he was there in the first place.

As Schultz warily made his way towards the back row of prisoners, a collective group of gasps and low murmuring could be heard among the men. _Kinch must be back, _Hogan thought. _Hope he slips into line without any trouble._

His thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the shoulder from Newkirk. "Uh, G'vnor..."

Hogan sighed. "What is it, Newkirk?"

"I think you better take a look at this sir,"

"Not now Newkirk, I'm thinking," Hogan muttered.

"But, sir!"

"Newkirk, I already told you-"

Hogan was cut off by Schultz's booming voice behind him. "Dreizehn, vierzehn, _fünfzehn_!" he exclaimed, overjoyed at the sight of seeing Carter standing in line.

_Fifteen? _Hogan spun around to see Carter standing there, innocently looking at the rest of the men who were equally as shocked as their commanding officer. "Carter?" he asked, bewildered. "But I thought-"

"Hey, gang!" he said cheerfully, cutting Hogan off. "What have I missed?" The members of Barracks Two were interrupted however, when Klink came storming towards Schultz, riding crop in hand.

"Repoooorrrtt!"

"Herr Kommandant, _all_ present and accounted for!" he replied, with genuine happiness.

"Very good Schultz, dissssmissed!"

Before the Sergeant-of-the-guard could dismiss the men however, they were already halfway through the barracks door. As soon as the door closed behind them, the room exploded with voices.

"Andrew, where 'ave you been? We were worried about you, mate!"

"You must be starving! Have some soup, quick!"

"We thought you were dead!"

"Are you okay?"

"I could have you court martialled for this!"

The room fell silent at Hogan's statement, and the smile on Carter's face disappeared as he realised the Colonel was being serious. "As happy as I am to see you safe Carter, we've been breaking our backs just trying to save you from the cave in, only to think you died in it. Now you just show up and think this is some kind of a joke! And where's your jacket, why are you out of uniform?"

Well gee, sorry Colonel," Carter replied, dejectedly. "I'm just so happy to see you guys again. Oh, and we had to burn the jacket, otherwise I'd still be wanted by the police."

"Who's _we_? Carter, are you trying to tell me the Gestapo knows about this unit and that you're a part of it?" he asked, becoming both frustrated and increasingly anxious.

"Oh, not at all, sir!" Carter corrected him. "I meant the Australian Police. Oh, and by we, I meant Peter. Say, that reminds me Newkirk, her name was Peter too! Only she was a girl."

"Andrew, what the 'ell are you natterin' about?" Newkirk asked, now just as frustrated as his commanding officer. Hogan massaged his temple with his hand as a headache began to form.

"If you guys would pipe down for a minute, maybe I could explain!" Carter huffed. The room fell silent and he began his story. "Well after the explosion, I have no idea what happened because I wasn't in the tunnels anymore. I somehow ended up in a parking lot in a place called Melbourne in Australia." He sighed as the rest of the men registered looks which showed they clearly didn't believe a word he was saying.

"_Anyway_," Carter continued. "At first I didn't know where I was. It was strange because all the buildings around me had their lights on even though it was night time. The cars I saw looked kinda funny and I peered in one to see if anything could tell me where I was. That's when I saw this book in there that said 'Melbourne, Australia' on it and I started to really worry after that."

"Well who wouldn't after having an 'allucination like that!" Newkirk piped up again.

"I'm telling the truth!" Carter whined, annoyed with the Englishman's retorts.

"Alright, alright, don't get your knickers in a twist! Get on with it then, this may turn out to be a nice little fairy tale story anyway."

Carter glared at his friend, but continued. "So then this guy walked out of one of the buildings and it sounded like he was yelling at someone...only there wasn't anyone else around. That's when I leaned on the car which turned out to be his, and then this alarm went off. The guy noticed me and he threatened to call the police, so I just ran for it."

"Carter, are you telling us that if true, you managed to get into trouble within two minutes?" Hogan sighed.

"It was more like fifteen minutes and it _is _true," he replied matter-of-factly. "So anyway, I kept running until I wound up in this suburban street. I figured I'd just hide in some brush somewhere till morning then figure out how to get outta there, right? But only one of the houses had any decent coverage around, so I climbed the fence and snuck into the backyard. That's when I saw this little tree house type hut, only it was on the ground. I thought I'd just sack out in there till morning, but when I opened the door to it, there was this girl in there..."

"Well somebody hit the jackpot!" someone piped up, sending the rest of the men into fits of laughter. Carter hadn't seen which soldier had made the offending comment.

"Hey now, it wasn't like that, she was practically a kid!" he yelled, defensively. "She didn't see me at first because she was reading a book. I think she thought it was her mum or something, but then she looked up and realised it was me. I-I didn't know what to do, I thought she'd call the cops on me for sure. But then I was surprised when she seemed to recognise me. It was in a really weird way, but she did. There was a close call when her mum showed up, but after that, she agreed to help me get back home. That's when I learned her name was Peter."

"Her name was Peter?" Newkirk asked, now understanding what Carter had been previously rambling about. "Mate, if you ever call me a girl because of this, I swear..."

"Would you knock it off, Newkirk?" Hogan ordered. "Continue Carter, even though I still think this was some crazy dream of yours."

Now Carter was the one who was frustrated, but he complied. "So _then_, get this, she told me I was in the future. In the year 2013!" He waited until the sarcastic comments died down. "I know what you're thinking, but it's true. It turns out the book she was reading was on World War Two. She even told me about another war that's going to happen after this one, and she showed me this cool gadget thing. I think she said it was called a mobile or something. It's basically a portable landline phone like the ones we have now."

By now, most of the men in the room were now re-engaged in the story. "And she wouldn't tell me, so after she left, I read through that book she'd been reading. I found out who wins the war, and even which side created the atomic bomb first!"

_This _caught their attention.

"Well? Come on André, tell us!" LeBeau said, excitedly.

"Exactly, prove it!" Garlotti added.

"I can't, I promised Peter I wouldn't. She said it could change history," Carter replied, amused with the looks on their faces. "Anyway, she left it at that and said that she'd help me the next day after she got back from school, so I was surprised to get woken up by her the next morning. Apparently she'd gotten out of going by telling her parents she had, get this Colonel, _Heemilack fever_."

Hogan's head shot up at the mention of the word. _Didn't I tell Klink that one time...? _

Carter continued. "So to cut an already long story short, we figured that if I got there with an explosion, I was getting back here with one too. The only problem was that it was peacetime over there, which meant that using explosives was more illegal than Newkirk before the war."

"Oh, thanks mate," the Englishman muttered.

"But then she told me about a firecracker festival that was being held at a park near her house the next night. She came up with this crazy plan to create an explosion and make it look like an accident - it was almost as crazy as your plans, sir!" Carter exclaimed, looking over at Hogan once again. "But then the police showed up looking for _me_. They somehow got a picture of me at that parking lot the night before, and they thought I was trying to rob the car or something. They even searched the house, but I used that chest trick Sergeant Flood taught me a while back. You guys remember him, right?"

"How could we forget? He's the only guy we know who managed to escape from the Gestapo without our help!" Kinch chuckled.

"Well yeah, after that, we figured that we needed disguises which Peter managed to get a hold of. We looked ridiculous but they worked, and the next night the plan went almost perfectly. There was this truck there with crates full of firecrackers, and I grabbed one while Peter distracted the cop on duty. I hid in some bushes and waited while Peter lined up to have her firecracker launched on this large machine. That's why I had to burn my jacket," he said.

He stopped to catch his breath. "That way the cops would think I'd been killed in the explosion and they'd stop trying to look for me. As Peter left, she knocked the directional beam so that it was pointed in my direction. When the next firecracker was launched, I set off the explosives and finally ended up back here. I just hope Peter made it back to her house okay."

Carter waited for the rest of the men to process what he'd told them.

"Right, well," Kinch began. "That was, uh, interesting Carter. Clearly you were knocked unconscious during the tunnel collapse and you're suffering from a severe case of amnesia or something along those lines."

"But I-"

"Exactly," Hogan cut in. "Newkirk, have Wilson brought over here right away."

"Right G'vnor!"

"But sir-" Carter tried again.

"No buts Carter, you're in a very serious condition right now," Hogan pressed. "LeBeau, give him some of the leftover soup from last night, he must be starving."

"Oui mon Colonel," LeBeau replied, hastily heading towards the stove.

"But _sir_," Carter tried for the third time. "I'm not hungry! I ate just a few hours ago!"

"It's worse than we thought," Kinch muttered, shaking his head. "C'mon guys, help me get him to his bunk, he needs to rest a while."

At this comment, Carter abruptly stood up. "Guys, I'm _fine_!" he shouted, a hint of anger in his voice. At that moment, Newkirk re-entered Barracks Two followed by Sergeant Wilson.

"Hey Carter, glad to see you're okay! Well, that you're safe at least. C'mon, I'll check you over in the Colonel's office, if that's alright with you sir," Wilson asked, looking towards Hogan. When he received a nod, he proceeded towards the office with Carter in tow. As much as he didn't want to be checked over, Carter knew there was no getting out of anything when it came to Wilson.

When the door shut, the rest of the heroes assembled themselves at the common room table.

"Alright, he's clearly in a fragile state right now so be careful what you say to him," Hogan warned. "And above all, don't go spreading this around. The last thing we need is for Klink to hear about this."

The others nodded in agreement, and were left wondering what had caused Carter to come up with such a crazy story.

* * *

The next morning, Peter impatiently waited on the front porch of her house. _Oh c'mon, where are you? _she thought, frustrated. _It doesn't take __that__ long to deliver the newspaper._

Just as she was about to head back inside, the sound of a motorcycle could be heard making its way up her street. A few minutes later, the mailman made it to her driveway, and tossed the newspaper at Peter who subsequently caught it. She hastily unrolled it, and just as she expected, the events of the night before had made the front page.

_Firecracker festival goes out with a bang!_

She chuckled at the headline and continued reading.

_Festival goers at last night's annual firecracker festival held in Southern Cross Park were shocked by a freak explosion around 8:30PM. The explosion, allegedly caused by a malfunction in a firecracker launcher, triggered a fire which resulted in one fatality. Police are still currently undergoing investigations, but believe the victim to be a man wanted for an attempted carjacking on Thursday night. _

"Somehow I thought they'd see it my way," Peter said, a smug grin appearing on her face.


	7. Epilogue

_**A/N: **__So with this, Carter's adventure comes to an end. Thank you to everyone who's been reading, and special thanks to those who've taken the time to review. Also, thank you to St. PA for pointing out an error in the first chapter. That's now been fixed._

* * *

The four heroes looked up from their position at the common room table, as Carter and Wilson emerged from the office. Hogan tilted his head in the direction of the barracks door, and the medic complied, stepping outside. Once the door was closed, Hogan spoke up.

"How is he?"

"Fine, no broken bones, only minor bruising," Wilson replied. "I'm surprised he isn't hurt more though, considering he doesn't seem to remember anything that happened. Kept going on about the future or something crazy like that."

"Oh geez, he told you that, too?" Hogan asked, cringing. "That must've been one serious knock to the head. Anyway, thanks Joe. If anything drastic happens or if he starts remembering what _actually _happened, I'll let you know. For now we'll just let him rest."

"Right, sir."

As Wilson headed back to his barracks, Hogan re-entered his. He looked in the direction of the common room table, and was just in time to see Kinch lose a game of Gin to Newkirk. His gaze then fell on Carter, who was sitting on his bunk fiddling with something in his hands. The object was obscured however, by the Sergeant's gloves. Hogan was about to ask, but decided against it. _What's he gonna tell us next? That it's some gadget from the future or something? Crazy._

* * *

_.:2 weeks later:._

"Newkirk, you aren't gonna play with the rest of us?" Hogan asked, as he noticed the Englishman sitting on the bench outside barracks two. "It's a great day for volleyball!"

"Not today, gov," Newkirk replied. "Andrew's been naggin' me for two bloody weeks to fix a hole in 'is shirt pocket. Figured I may as well get it done now. Besides, I don't really feel like exercising today."

"Suit yourself," Hogan replied, shrugging his shoulders.

Newkirk watched as the game began, smiling as his mates matched playful taunts with the men from barracks five. He particularly found LeBeau's attempts at hitting the ball over the net amusing. It was then that he suddenly remembered why he wasn't playing, and set to work on Carter's shirt.

Upon inspecting the pocket however, Newkirk cursed under his breath. "Bloody 'ell Carter, there's nothing wrong with your damn pocket! Hang on, what's this?" he said, feeling a small item inside the material. He unfastened the pocket button, and pulled out what appeared to be a coin. His eyes widened as he realised what was on it.

"50 cents? _Australia? _But they use shillings and pennies like us..." he muttered, trailing off in disbelief. He flipped the coin over to the backside and nearly fell off the bench. "_Queen Elizabeth the Second? _What the 'ell happened to King George the Sixth? London would've told us if anything 'ad happened to 'im!"

Flustered, he looked for Carter in the volleyball game, but couldn't see him amongst the rest of the prisoners. That's when he noticed the American leaning against the Kommandantur, staring straight back at him with a smug look on his face. Newkirk raised an eyebrow towards his friend, who promptly made his way over and joined him on the bench.

"Nah mate, you're messin' with me," Newkirk said, holding the coin out for Carter to take. "I can't believe you're still going on about that barmy story of yours."

"Care to check the date on that thing, pal?" Carter asked, matter-of-factly.

Newkirk was about to shoot back a sarcastic reply, but decided to just go along with it. If it meant that Carter would drop the subject, that was good enough for him. Turning the coin sideways, he raised his eyebrows. "2013, huh?"

Carter glared at his friend. "_Yes._"

A thought suddenly occurred to Newkirk which put his mind at ease. "Tell me Carter, 'ow long did it take you to make this thing? Either that, or you've been keeping the boys down at the metal shop busy."

Carter was now the one giving him a look of disbelief. "That's it, I give up!" he cried, heading inside the barracks and slamming the door behind him. Newkirk, still holding the coin in his hands, inspected it again. He chuckled to himself, thinking about how ridiculous the whole idea of it was. And yet, despite the implausibility of it all, there was a lingering feeling of uncertainty.

"No, it can't be..." Newkirk muttered. "_Can _it?"


End file.
